Hearts A Mess
by random987123
Summary: IWTS. Trouble's brewing as vampires gear up to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the Great Revelation. What will happen when Sookie runs into Eric at a meeting several years after he left for Oklahoma? "Canon" to follow Deadlocked.
1. Chapter 1

I Write the Songs Contest Entry

TITLE: Hearts A Mess (inspired by the Gotye song)

CHARACTERS: Sookie, Eric, Pam

PEN NAME: moxiemo

BETA NAME: esquilo-negligenciadas & alisonbynumbers (remaining mistakes my own)

VIRGIN WRITER : NO

MULTI-CHAPTER: Not for the purposes of this contest.

TEASER: Trouble's brewing as vampires gear up to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the Great Revelation. What will happen when Sookie runs into Eric at a meeting several years after he left for Oklahoma? "Canon" to follow _Deadlocked_.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They are the exclusive property of Charlaine Harris. Gotye owns his songs.

* * *

"Sookie! The toilet in the women's room is overflowing again!" the new busboy yelled from the hall that led back to Sam's office.

I was happy.

Really.

Bon Temps was the same old, same old. The bar was doing better than ever (ladies' room toilet notwithstanding) and for the first time ever I thought I might able to save for retirement. Now that someone wasn't trying to kill me, I thought I might even need it. There were a couple of years when an attempt on my life had felt like a weekly occurrence, but now clogged toilets were my main aggravation.

"I'll be right back," I said to Jason and Michele, who had stopped by for dinner because it was too hot to grill, let alone turn on the stove in their house. The early summer heat wave had been good for business.

"Take your time," Michele said with a smile.

"When you're done plunging, I'd take another beer," Jason said.

I rolled my eyes as I went to attend to plumbing issues, which were a part of my job description as part owner. Tim, the busboy, was right when he said we didn't pay him enough to wield the plunger.

Despite having bathroom duty, I had a lot of good things going for me. I had my friends and family. Michele and Jason had a baby girl and they spent a lot of time with Tara and JB and the twins. We had backyard barbecues together. Hoyt and Holly came by, and sometime on Sundays when Merlotte's was closed, Sam joined us.

Still, I wasn't free from the supernatural world, which was hard to forget even when I was up to my elbows in ... you know. There was no way I'd get out of it. Even though I hadn't heard a peep from the fairies since Dermot and Claude and the others left with Niall, I was too well known in vampire and shifter circles. I'd never escape it completely, not even with Eric gone.

I'd been vulnerable when our marriage had ended with as little fanfare as it had begun. Bill had hinted—okay, more than hinted—that it was always an option for me to be his again. The thought of that squicked me out even though he insisted it would just be for show, as friends, and there'd be no pressure. Though I knew he'd always have my best interests in mind, I'd ended up as Pam's, at least in an official capacity.

It made sense. Seemed expected, almost normal, that Eric would hand his human off to his lieutenant. Though the practice wasn't technically condoned anymore, I was sure Tara's experience with Franklin and Mickey was not an isolated incident. And I was touched when she'd offered. Pam had always been of the "vampires first" mindset.

I still had to do telepathy work for the vampires, but everything went through Pam, and Mr. Cataliades had helped me work out a contract that protected my interests as much as any legal document could. For a while, I'd dreaded the thought of being swept away by Felipe to Las Vegas, but eventually I'd convinced him that a willing telepath was much more reliable, and he had agreed to continue to use my services from afar. For now. Blackmailing him about sharing some vampire secrets with the press didn't hurt my bid for independence. Our relationship was tense and tedious, but I had my illusion of freedom.

And life went on, even after Eric left.

And I was happy.

Really.

It wasn't all vampire jobs and plumbing fiascos. I babysat my niece and the twins and visited Hunter when I could. Bubba stopped by regularly and we played checkers and listened to Gran's old records. I appreciated the company, even though his regular visits dashed my hopes of ever getting another cat. Sometimes Bill joined us, and on those nights we played Gin Rummy.

When it was just me, I liked to sit on my swing, reading a book under the glow of the porch light and with a glass of sweet tea. Biographies and memoirs, history, and science fiction—I read anything but romances or mysteries these days. They say people don't change, but they can at least grow. I had.

When Pam called, I'd just slapped an out of order sign on the women's bathroom and closed up Merlotte's for the night. Sam might grumble about it, but I'd resolved to call a plumber in the morning. "Hello, my voluptuous pet," she said as I answered. She teased me twice as much now that Eric was gone.

We never mentioned him. Never even spoke his name. I wasn't even sure how much they talked, though presumably we had a spy in Oklahoma and they had one in Louisiana, so Eric and Pam knew what was going on with each other, even if they didn't keep in touch.

"What's up?" I asked. She must have just been closing up Fangtasia. "Counting the till? We sure were busy tonight."

"Oh, a fair take. Though I miss the good old days. Pedro is popular, but not the draw—" Pam caught herself before she compared the vampire du jour to Eric. As the new sheriff, she still made vampires from her area put in time at the bar. "I had hoped he would be," she finished lamely.

"But you didn't call to shoot the breeze with me. What's _really_ up?"

"I require your services this weekend. Non-negotiable." It was Memorial Day. Hoyt and Holly had gotten a new, above ground pool with their tax return and were plan on opening it up. Though I thought I was too old to wear a bikini now that I was in my thirties, I had still been looking forward to getting in the water with the kids and soaking up some sun. Pam knew this. I'd mentioned it to her last week.

"Pam..." I said, hoping it didn't sound too much like a whine. I knew things with the Fellowship were heating up. Word on the supernatural street said they were planning something big to disrupt folks' celebration of the 10th anniversary of the Great Revelation. Since I was the one who could read human minds, I had assumed I'd be called to help thwart their plans. I'd just hoped it'd be after the pool party.

"Tomorrow night. There's a last-minute meeting in Austin to finalize security. I'll pick you up after dark."

Paranoid vampires and their aversion to conference calls. I sighed, loud enough for Pam to hear it.

"You know we always have fun when we travel," she reminded me, and I wasn't sure I'd choose that term, but at least road trips with Pam hadn't ever been boring. "And you're due for a little action. So am I."

I wasn't sure whether she meant fight-for-your-life action or between-the-sheets action. There hadn't been much of either lately. In fact, other than a few minor indiscretions, Pam had been the only one I'd even kissed in the last few years.

Dating humans was still out of the question. That seriously limited my options. I'd tried a few dates with some shifters, but hadn't really sparked with anyone.

Vampires were off limits, because, at least publicly, I was Pam's. Which had always just been a joke, until one night we'd experimented. Her lips were soft and her technique was good, don't get me wrong. But I think we'd both thought it was weird. Weird for me because I'd never in a million years thought I'd enjoy kissing a woman, and for Pam because it must have felt wrong to be kissing Eric's former wife. We'd laughed it off and not mentioned it since, and luckily things hadn't changed between us.

"Okay, fine," I said, as if I had a choice.

Pam honked just after dark the next night. We were in a hurry, or I'm sure she'd have at least come to the door, even if she would have turned down a bottle of True Blood. Austin was a six-hour drive and we hoped to be settled long before sunrise. I shoved my red, gold, and blue luggage in the back of Pam's new Subaru Outback, and then we were off.

"So is this about the Fellowship trouble?" There'd been rumblings about a new wave of attacks from the vampire-hating church and political group. America had a new (and very conservative) President, who at least tolerated their agenda, even if he didn't outright support it, so the Fellowship of the Sun enjoyed a more favorable political environment lately.

As vampires geared up to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of the Great Revelation, they were mounting a campaign against vampires. Rumor had it the militant branch of the Fellowship was working on different strategies in their fight against the supernatural. As a result, we were all on higher alert. I also had my own history with the Fellowship, so I didn't want to have any more run-ins with them if I could help it.

"Yes. Some representatives of Amun are meeting with some from Zeus to assess the threat and develop a coordinated strategy to contain it. All the bigwigs want the celebrations to go off without a hitch."

"Zeus?" I tried to ask casually, though my voice came out an octave higher than normal.

"Our neighbors. You've always been a fan of cooperation, haven't you?"

I nodded. It was true, there were times when I'd argued for rational sense rather than old grudges to take precedent in vampire negotiations. As much as I hated vampire politics, I'd proven adept at navigating them, if you measured success by my ability to stay alive (which I did).

Pam filled me in on the intelligence about the most recent Fellowship activity while we drove southwest on TX-31. What she hadn't told me was why we were going. "And Felipe is the one who sent us? He isn't attending the meeting himself?"

Pam looked over at me pointedly, as if she knew the question I was really asking was whether any royalty from Zeus would be attending, or if the meeting would be of what I'd come to think of as mid-level management. Pam had taken over as sheriff and was pretty high up in the chain of command since she'd been around longer than Felipe's command in Louisiana, but if we were going, I didn't think the meeting would include the kings and queens from other vampire territories.

"Felipe asked me to take you. We have the most experience dealing with Fellowship of the Sun, and he thought your insight to their habits would be particularly relevant."

She hadn't answered my unspoken question. I didn't ask a follow-up.

Pam had booked us in a vampire suite at the Driskill, and I collapsed into my bed as soon as we arrived. She had a light tight room to sleep in for the day, and I could venture out in the afternoon and do some sight-seeing if I wanted. The meeting was set for midnight in one of the hotel ballrooms.

That would be when the real fun began.

"That's what you're going to wear?" Pam asked when she came out of the bathroom.

I looked down at my smart black suit. The pants were a flattering cut and the blazer fit just right, which I considered a triumph because finding a proper fitting jacket when you are as busty as I is not easy. I wore a pale pink button down underneath and a simple strand of tiny freshwater pearls that had been a gift from Pam, so I didn't understand her objection. I thought it was a business appropriate ensemble.

"What's wrong with it?" I wore jeans or simple skirts with casual tops to most of my vampire functions. This was dressing up for me. I had selected my outfit with Pam's taste in mind, so I was taken aback by her reaction to my outfit.

"I miss your printed dresses and low cut shirts. You look like a news anchor in that."

"You've never cared what I wore before. Why now?" I eyed her skeptically.

"Does the suit at least have a skirt?"

It did. I rolled my eyes and changed into it. Even if Pam had further objections to my wardrobe, we were out of time. We rode the elevator up to the meeting room at the stroke of midnight.

A casual observer wouldn't notice the difference between the assembled vampires and any other business conference, save the odd hour of the meeting. Vampires were good at blending in—after all, it had only been ten years since they'd made themselves known to humans. That short a time was nothing to vampires who had lived in shadows for centuries.

For just a moment, I thought back to my first few experiences with vampires—Fangtasia, Dallas, Jackson, Rhodes. It all seemed so routine now. A wave of nostalgia swept over me. Those had practically been the good old days.

I scanned the crowd of vampires, most of whom I knew. A lot of people were willing to die to be in my position—some of them were lined up in a special corner, just waiting to be deigned worthy of being a part of this world. But being party to real vampire events was more boring meetings than sexy liaisons. At least for me, these days.

When I spotted a group of vamps I'd met a few months ago and wanted to catch up with before the meeting officially began, I slipped away from Pam to chat with them, leaving her deep in conversation with the Texas King hosting the evening's events. Stan had remembered there would be at least a few humans present and had seen that a sampling of hors d'oeuvres had been ordered, which I indulged in while visiting with some acquaintances.

_If only Gran could see me now_ I couldn't help but think as I took a big bite of coconut shrimp.

Pam had once asked me to have mercy on Eric. She told me that he had never been so tangled in his emotions, at such a disadvantage, all because of me.

But when he strode into the ballroom in his self-assured way, sporting a tailored suit and those piercing blue eyes, I was the one with the disadvantage, even if I wasn't ready to beg for mercy.

I thought I'd understood what Pam had meant, and maybe I did, intellectually. Eric had told me himself that thinking of me was distracting (in fact, he'd wondered out loud if he should kill me for that very reason) but the prospect of getting through the meeting with him in the room made me feel it myself, and the visceral experience did so much more than her admonishment ever had. My heart was a mess.

I'd acknowledged the possibility of seeing him here, but I hadn't wanted to dwell on it. There was no reason to waste energy on unneeded anxiety. But after all these years, being in the same room as Eric certainly had an effect on me. I wished I'd spared a few moments to brace myself.

Because I'd known as soon as he walked into the room. I'd broken our bond years ago. We hadn't exchanged blood in almost as long. But I still _felt_ him. Whatever vestiges of his blood were still running in my veins sang in his presence. Or maybe it wasn't blood at all. Maybe it was my heart that had never completely healed. Either way, something inside me called to him.

If we'd had a proper break up, I wouldn't have these unresolved feelings. If we'd had some sort of closure, some finale, I'd like to think I could have accepted it and moved on.

But he'd just left.

I'd given him some time to cool off after that night at Alcide's when I'd used the cluviel dor. I'd had enough drama for a few days. We'd gone longer than a few weeks without talking before, so it hadn't seemed odd not to hear from him. But when I hadn't had so much as a text message from him in a month, I'd called him one night to find his phone number disconnected. That had worried me, so I'd gone over to Bill's and asked if he'd seen or heard anything.

The sad look in Bill's eye made my heart swell in my chest, but he wouldn't reveal any details. Perhaps he withheld the truth because he'd broken my heart on his own, and didn't want to deliver the news that Eric had done the same. I never held his silence against him.

Pam was working the door at Fangtasia that night. Eric's Corvette hadn't been in the parking lot, but I'd still had some hope. When she'd given me a look that could only be called pity and said, "I'm sorry," I'd felt as if I'd been played for a fool.

I felt like an even bigger fool now because I still had the urge to run and throw my arms around him the moment I laid eyes on him. For a moment, everything else faded away, and it was as if we were the only two people in the room, in the state, in the world.

But reality came crashing back. The reason Eric and I were in the same room wasn't some coincidental twist of fate like in some old movie. I was obliged to work for vampires, and Eric was one of them. I couldn't run across the room and throw my arms around the consort to the queen of Oklahoma, and I certainly couldn't tell him how much I still loved and missed him. All I could do was return to my conversation.

I was talking to Darlene, a vampire from Kansas who I'd met when she'd stopped through Shreveport last year. Pam often called me to act like a hostess to the visiting vamps. I'd gotten along great with the newly-turned vampire. Since she was so recently human, we still had the same sort of cultural references and had come from similar backgrounds. She'd been turned by a Bosnian refugee who'd fled his homeland during the upheaval following The Great Revelation. They were a charming couple. I didn't think they were exclusive anymore, but they had some sort of understanding.

Unfortunately, when I'd caught Eric's glacial blue eyes from across the room, for that fraction of second before he looked away, Darlene had followed my gaze.

"Who's the big blonde?" she asked.

I realized my breath caught and my heart rate had gone off the charts, something that wouldn't have escaped her notice. "Just someone that I used to know."

Her eyes studied the figure across the room I was trying so desperately to ignore. "Is that … Eric Northman? I heard he loved a human before he became consort to the queen. Is that true? Was that _you_?" Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of gossip. Some things didn't change when you turned. My vampire friend had studied journalism in college with the hopes of becoming a celebrity news reporter back before she was turned. Now she ran a popular vampire culture blog, putting her education and gossip skills to good use. She exchanged a significant glance with her maker, who nodded, seeming to indicate he'd fill her in later and she had properly guessed at least part of the story. The Bosnian shot me a knowing glance, but didn't speak. If my story weren't already on the Internet, it would probably be after tonight. Darlene has a glint in her eye that told me she was drooling at the prospect.

I was immensely glad I wasn't much of a websurfer.

"You'll have to ask him," I said to Darlene. "Excuse me."

I slipped out for some air. If I'd been less cynical, or perhaps hadn't known Eric as well as I did, I might have hoped he'd follow. But instead it was Freyda who caught me alone.

"It was inevitable, I guess," she said as she leaned over the balcony beside me. I pretended to watch the people party below us on Sixth Street, scampering between bars, checking out all the bands and the booze. She leaned over the rail casually, mimicking my stance.

Earlier, when I'd explored downtown Austin, I'd seen a tie-dyed shirt that read "Keep Austin Weird." The city was certainly living up to its reputation, as far as I was concerned.

"What's inevitable?" I asked.

"Us running into each other."

I just shrugged my shoulders. We were quiet for a long time. I didn't know what her angle was. What could she possibly want? To gloat? She'd already won. I didn't have anything to say to her.

"I often think you got the better end of the deal," Freyda finally said.

"Oh yeah?"

"He loves you even more now that he doesn't have you." Freyda stated this as if she was talking about the condition of the roads or the unusually warm weather. Completely matter of fact.

"He told you that?" I asked. Of course I had no idea the nature of their relationship, but that didn't seem to be the kind of thing Eric would admit to anyone. Even his wife. Because that's what she was to him now. He certainly hadn't been very forthcoming when I'd been his wife.

"He doesn't have to." I sort of hated that Freyda was actually perceptive enough to notice, or even care. It made despising her that much more difficult. In a way, she was actually perfect for Eric. Sometimes, what hurt most was thinking he had made the right decision.

I didn't know what to say in response to her remark, so I shrugged my shoulders and continued looking down as if I was interested in the revelers on the street below.

"I told him he could keep you," she added. "What I couldn't understand was that he said you would say no to that arrangement. I thought you loved him."

Luckily I didn't have to respond to that comment. "Sookie," I heard from the doorway, and turned to look over my shoulder. Pam stalked toward us. "There you are." When she reached my side she looped her arm through mine. "The proceedings are about to begin."

But I honestly didn't remember much about the meeting, because when I found my place card, it was right next to Eric Northman's. I didn't allow myself to turn my head to the left, but I felt him sit beside me moments after I took my seat.

The left side of my body tingled with wanting to lean against him. My skin called out to him, and this hum of energy between us felt like it could spark at any minute.

After listening to a lot of vampires huffing and puffing about ways to confront the Fellowship threat and how important their anniversary event was, Eric finally spoke. His voice was all business. Cold. Detached. To the point.

"You all offer various suggestions, but I'd like to hear what Miss Stackhouse thinks. She has a reputation for solving difficult problems." He called me 'Miss Stackhouse', and referenced our past as if I was someone that he used to know. Which was true, and exactly the same way I had described him earlier. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

I took a sip of water before throwing in my two cents. "Discrediting the leadership is a good way to land a blow to the organization as a whole. No one knows much about the new generation of zealots. They have to have skeletons in the closet...if we can expose them that could help sway public opinion back to favor tolerance, which is our goal, right? So a preemptive attack isn't going to do any good in the long run, and will actually fuel the anti-vampire sentiment. We need to be patient and smart." I said 'our' and 'we' as if I was one of them, even though I most certainly was not. Then again, even if I wasn't a vampire, my fate was still inextricably linked to theirs. "And make sure you don't forget to pay attention to the staff. That's how everything happened in Rhodes," I added.

My eye met Eric's for a brief moment, and he nodded, but his gaze flickered away before I could read anything from his expression. I wonder if he was thinking about what I remembered from Rhodes—him saving me from Andre, me saving him and Pam from the collapsing building. His hand was resting on his knee under the table, and I wanted nothing more than to hold it. I told myself it would be enough to know that he remembered. Instead I folded mine on top of the table.

"Miss Stackhouse speaks with great wisdom," Freyda said, nodding at me. "We should listen to her."

I had no idea what kind of a play that was meant to be.

There was more debate and posturing. In the end, they decided to take the wait-and-see approach, and established some guidelines for appropriate responses to Fellowship activities that each territory agreed to abide, including a long drawn out discussion of security. Plans to commemorate the anniversary of the revelation were discussed, but I might as well have been deaf to them. I tried to concentrate, but with Eric sitting mere inches from me, it was proving more difficult than I wanted to admit.

Finally, the meeting was over, and I high-tailed it out of the ballroom without even explaining to Pam where I was going, intent on taking a hot bath in the luxurious tub before crawling into bed. I wanted nothing more than to wash all thoughts of Eric away. The elevator down to our floor seemed to take forever, but I finally arrived in front of my own door and the only obstacle between me and the bath was the little plastic electronic key. After three tries the light finally blinked green and allowed me entrance, and I sighed in relief, thinking of nothing but bubbles and bath oil.

But when I opened my door, I found a six and a half foot tall Viking standing in the middle of my suite.

"Pam gave me her key," Eric said.

I'd envisioned a conversation between us hundreds of times over the last five years. There hadn't ever been one that started like that. "I almost had to force her to relinquish it."

"Oh," I said. A flood of contradictory emotions washed over me, and I wasn't able to formulate any further response.

Eric crossed the room to where I stood, then reached out and brushed the curve of my cheek with the very tips of his fingers. I leaned into his touch. I couldn't help it. Then he brought both of his hands up, pushing my hair back over my shoulders. He stepped closer and held my face in his hands, his fingers cradling my jaw and his thumbs stroking my cheeks. He looked down at me, his blue eyes still unreadable.

Not to my surprise, he leaned down and kissed me, much in the way he had the first few times—slowly, tentatively, as if he were savoring the moment, tasting something new and different. Of their own accord, my hands jumped to his shoulders, pulling my body against his. My mind gave up conscious thought, and I didn't allow myself to think past the fleeting pleasure of Eric's lips, his touch, the moment.

We didn't speak as Eric pushed my suit jacket off, or as he unbuttoned my pale pink shirt. The only sounds I made were faint moans and small cries as he kissed along my jawline and nibbled at my neck. Then he kneeled in front of me, running one hand up my leg. I heard him lower the zipper to my skirt so it fell past my hips to the floor. I stepped out of it and he wrapped his arms around me, pressing his cheek to my side. My hands wound in his hair. We held each other in that awkward pose—me, stripped down to my underwear, and Eric on his knees in front of me—for a long time.

"Sookie," he said, and before he could speak further, I pulled him up so I could kiss him. This was why I'd never been able to enjoy kissing anyone else. I was ruined.

Before I knew it, I was being lowered onto the cream duvet and Eric was naked and I was naked and it felt like we'd never been apart.

"You are so beautiful," he said, and I noted how he didn't say "still". I knew Eric hadn't changed a bit—my exploration of his body as we peeled off his clothes revealed the same physique I'd known years ago. I also knew my breasts hung a bit lower and my curves were a bit softer than the last time we'd been intimate.

Eric didn't seem to mind. He kissed his way down my body, then threw my legs over his shoulders and dove into me. It wasn't just that he enjoyed this, which he always had. He had something to prove, and I was happy to lie back and let him. When he looked up to find me watching, his tongue slowed to an excruciating speed.

Before I could come, he was up and in me, hard and fast and like he'd never been gone, as if he'd thought of this, of us, every night since we'd been apart.

"This is good," he muttered in my ear.

"Right..." I breathed, meeting his mouth for a searing kiss.

We had done this before. This was never our problem—our sexual chemistry had always been off the charts. We both know it was not enough to sustain a relationship, at least not in the supernatural world where practicality always trumped emotion. But that didn't prevent us from enjoying one another, if only for a night. And enjoy each other we did.

After we were done Eric laid very still, remaining inside me for a long time. He was reassuringly heavy against me. I ran my fingers through his long hair.

"My Sookie," he said then pulled back to look at me. He kissed me. "It's good to see you."

"You too."

He rolled off me, then pulled me close, spooning me from behind. He pulled the covers we'd kicked off the bed up and around me before I even had a chance to ask.

"We have a few hours until dawn. I want to make love again when you're ready. For now, talk to me about your life."

"Eric..." I turned to look at him over my shoulder. I knew this was wrong on so many levels. Sex was one thing. But anything more could only lead to trouble. It was already going to hurt to see him go.

Instead of responding, he kissed me. "Talk to me like you used to. Just...talk."

It was so tempting. I felt so content, safe, even loved, lying with him. And I certainly didn't want to hear about what he was doing. There'd been a time when I'd wished he'd share more of his life with me, but now I'd rather not know.

I sighed. As long as I was indulging in gourmet sex with my sorta ex-husband, I might as well do my favorite part, which was the post-coital cuddling and conversation. Consequences be damned.

I was also flattered that he cared about my life and what I was doing. Eric had always been easy to talk to, at least when we were like this.

While I told him about my recent visits to Fangtasia, he ran his hands over my body and kissed my shoulder, my neck, my hair. I told him about Bon Temps and the bar and my friends and family. He just listened and asked follow up questions in between caresses.

His touch became firmer, more deliberate, as my stories wound down. I rolled onto my back.

"I want you again," he said. He brought his mouth to mine, giving me a long, hard, lustful kiss.

"It's later than we realized, though," I said, gesturing over his shoulder to the alarm clock on the side table. "Won't you be missed?" _By your wife, the queen_, I thought.

"I'm staying here during the day. Pam made other arrangements for her daytime rest." He rolled on top of me, as easily as if he'd done it every night for the past five years.

"Wait," I said, struggling to catch my breath. Sex had been more than welcome; I hadn't realized how much I'd needed it. And I'd even let the cuddling and pillow talk go on without giving it too much thought. But him staying the day was not something I'd even considered. "What's going on here?"

He pulled back to look at me, and his long, blond hair fell on my shoulders and brushed my cheeks. "Do you not want me here? Because it seemed very much like you did." He squeezed my still-sensitive nipples and then ran his hand down my side, over my hip, and squeezed again.

Hadn't I wanted to run to him the moment I'd felt his presence? Hadn't I dreamed of this moment, even when I'd banished him from my waking thoughts?

"I do want you," I said. "That was never the question."

"Then what is the problem?" He reached for my hand, and brought it to rest on him. "I am certainly not the problem." He grinned at me, and my heart cracked. I'd said yes to sex, to companionship. I'd say yes to that again. But if he stayed any longer than dawn it implied this was something more. Something impossible.

"You leave. It's what you do. What you did. Sex doesn't make me just forget that."

"That had nothing to do with what I wanted."

That had to be the biggest cop out response I'd ever heard. No matter how cornered Eric had been, he'd made a choice.

And I could make my own.

"This was nice, Eric." I pulled my hand away from him and brought it up to cup his cheek. He really hadn't changed at all. His eyes still had the tiniest gold flecks in the center, the same color of his hair. No new lines in the corners of his mouth. Everything, exactly the same. "But you can't stay," I said firmly. When I tried to kiss him, he grabbed my wrist and pulled it back.

"You love me." He said, his blue eyes blazing. "And I love you. _That_ has not changed."

"Nothing else has changed, either."

Eric was out of the bed and back in his rumpled clothes faster than I could say, "regret". He went to the door, pausing to look over his shoulder before he left.

"This is not the end," Eric said, resolutely, and walked out.

* * *

Thanks to the judges for giving their time, the Northwoman for organizing, the two lovely ladies who read over this for me, and you, for reading! This has a companion piece in my head that I may someday write (operative word: someday).


	2. Chapter 2

The next 10 chapters were published as Puzzle with a Missing Piece on my blog as a sequel. I decided to move it here and leave it as one story, mostly as a backup and in case I decide to delete my blog. Some of you may have read this before if you follow my blog. If not, I hope you enjoy! This was a fun story for me to write and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading!

* * *

"This is highway robbery!" Sam yelled loud enough that anyone in three parishes could hear him, let alone the tables out front.

"Sam, think of it as an investment. Instead of constantly repairing it, replacing the toilet will actually save money in the long run," I reasoned. Sam was not happy about the estimate from the plumber for the broken toilet in the women's restroom and was making a big stink about it.

"It doesn't need replaced! It needs a good plunge and new chain! He's a swindler, this plumber!" Sam crushed the bill in his hand.

I collapsed onto the dilapidated couch in Sam's office. "I'm not up to arguing, Sam. Please." I rested my elbows on my knees and cradled my head in my hands, rubbing my temples.

"You were just on vacation!"

I looked up at Sam, my best friend, my business partner. In a way, I was closer to him than anybody. He understood both my everyday human concerns and the supernatural drama I couldn't escape. Still, there was so much I didn't tell him.

"It was still work. I know I didn't give you much notice about me leaving, but I didn't have a choice about going."

Austin had been exhausting in more ways than one. I couldn't deny it had been pleasurable in some ways, but that pleasure was bittersweet and left me feeling more empty than I had felt in a long time.

Sam sat down in his creaky office chair and ran his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up in all different directions. "Sorry, Sook. You know if you want to talk about it, we can. Things have just been so quiet lately…"

"I saw Eric," I said, meeting his eye.

Sam's face fell. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it, closed it. I could still pick up the flavor of his thoughts, which mirrored my own: angry and hurt.

"I knew it was a possibility. I just wasn't quite prepared for it," I added lamely. Understatement of the year award goes to…Sookie Stackhouse.

"Well I hope you socked him in the jaw for me," Sam said.

I thought of how I'd clawed up his back and bitten his ear. Not the kind of physical retribution that Sam had in mind. "I still love him," I whispered.

"Ah, Sook," he said, moving from his office chair to sit beside me on the couch. He put a friendly hand on my back. "I'm sorry."

I sighed. "The dinner rush will be getting on. I'll barter with the plumber. It'll all be okay."

"We'll get by. We always do," he said with a smile. "Chin up, kid."

"Thanks, Sam."

A night of running burgers and beer to the folks of Bon Temps was a welcome distraction from all the thoughts swirling around in my head. This was normal. This was the life I had worked to build. This was where I belonged.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Pam and I wanted to ignore her. The ride home from Austin had been tense. When she'd returned to our room and found Eric already gone, and I'd confessed to kicking him out, she was frustrated.

"You two are impossible!" She yelled.

I sunk further into my comfortable bed. I had slept all day after Eric had left, and was still more tired than I'd felt in years. "The situation is impossible. What do you want me to do?"

Pam had walked over and sat beside me on the bed. She' stroked my hair fondly, then took my chin in her hand and forced me to look at her. "I want you to stop expecting things to look like a Lifetime movie, Sookie. Relationships are about compromise."

I shook her off, and it was a tribute to our friendship that Pam let me escape her grip. "Compromise! I'm willing to accept that he is a killer. That I'll age and die and he never will. That I'll never have kids or a church wedding or breakfast with the man I love. But I can't compromise myself."

Pam sighed uncharacteristically. She stood, smoothed her suit, and pulled my covers off the bed. "It's not just you—it's him, too. So proud." That comment had made me smile, and Pam had rolled her eyes, told me to get dressed and pack my bag so we could get on the road, and she hadn't mentioned it since.

She still wouldn't say his name in front of me, for which I was very grateful. Even though I didn't particularly want to talk to her now, I answered the phone.

"Are you at home?" was all she said. No greeting. That was Pam.

"No, I'm at the bar. What's up?"

"Good. Turn on CNN." I don't have cable at home, but Sam has it at the bar for ESPN. Most people in Bon Temps can't afford satellite, but they are happy to throw away a few dollars on a pitcher while they watch the game.

"What's this about?" I asked as I grabbed the remote and changed the channel from _How I Met Your Mother_ to the news, ignoring the cries of displeasure from two guys in a booth.

"Isn't it so sad?" A perky newscaster was saying to her co-host.

"And on the eve of the 10th anniversary of the Great Revelation. Star-crossed lovers, kept apart by hatred. It's tragic."

There was a blurry photo of Eric and me sitting in a booth in Fangtasia displayed behind the newscasters. His hand covered mine. It had been taken by a cell phone, years ago. In a flash, it changed to one of Eric in a business suit—the headshot from when he'd opened Fangtasia. The same one that Hallow had passed around on flyers offering a reward for knowledge of his whereabouts, once upon a time. I'd cringe if they had dug up my high school yearbook photo. Luckily the producers must have thought Eric's sexy smirk would keep people glued to their TV more than my bad 90s hairstyle.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Pam.

"Apparently your blogger friend Darlene thought she'd go from online gossip whore to leading news. She thought she deserved her fifteen minutes and she's using you and Eric to get it."

"I don't understand."

"Whatever you do, don't go online or come to Fangtasia—there's a news crew camped out in the parking lot. I'll stop by your house after we close up tonight."

"Does he know?" I still couldn't bring myself to say his name.

"Who do you think she talked to?"

I swallowed. Something was up, that was for sure. There was a long moment before Pam spoke again, so long that I thought she'd hung up. Then she said, "I'll see you tonight," I said, and disconnected the line.

I folded my phone and stuck it in my back pocket and picked up the remote off the bar. "Here you go, boys. All you missed was the commercial break." Luckily, my relationship with Eric was old news in Bon Temps and they weren't at all interested in the story and were happy to go back to their sitcom.

I wanted to blame this on someone else, but it was all my fault. I'd said to Darlene "you'll have to ask him" but I never in a million years thought he'd give her an answer. Apparently, I'd misjudged Eric.

It wouldn't be the first time.

Pam didn't even bother to change before coming over to my house. She was still wearing her black vinyl and fishnet get-up from Fangtasia when she knocked on my door.

"C'mon in." I said.

"I knew something like this was going to happen," Pam said.

"Would you like a True Blood?" I asked as we walked into the kitchen. I didn't wait for her reply to begin heating one up.

"I don't know what he was thinking. This is an unprecedented public display of vampire business. Felipe…Everything we've planned…"

"Slow down, Pam. I only saw ten seconds of sound bites and an old fuzzy picture of Er—of us. You're going to have to start at the beginning." Still, _that we'd planned…_ echoed in my ears. She must mean something she'd planned with Eric, because I didn't have a clue as to what she meant.

Pam looked at her feet, avoiding my eye. "I knew he would be at the meeting. Felipe wanted me to take you, but I would have anyway. Neither of you are the same without the other. I thought perhaps if you saw each other…"

"What?" I whispered in disbelief. Pam had set up an ambush. I was fuming. Angry beyond words.

"Let me finish. I didn't expect him to just ignore you in public. I thought he'd acknowledge you. That you could chat. That you could see that the current situation didn't prevent you from being together."

She looked up to meet my eyes. "He left. He's married. To the queen of Oklahoma. I'd say that's a pretty substantial roadblock."

Pam smiled at me, wide and indulgent. "You're still thinking like a human. It's endearing."

"What's going to happen?" I asked lamely. The microwave beeped and I went to retrieve Pam's blood.

"Don't worry. Everything is going to work out." I handed her the bottle and she took a big swig, then smiled again. The way the blood left a thin, pink coating on her teeth should have grossed me out more than it did.

That was all Pam said about the situation. She drank enough of her bottle of blood to be polite and told me some news about her bar, then she was on her way. Pam knew me well enough to know I didn't want to hash it out with her and left me to sort out my feelings on my own. I didn't want to talk about Eric and it wasn't so pressing an issue that it had to be resolved tonight. I went to bed without thinking of him only because I'd had a lot of practice these last few years.

But I couldn't sleep. Sometime in that deep middle of the night, I stumbled out of bed for a glass of water, and wasn't surprised to sense a vampire outside. Bill would have seen the news, and I knew he would try to do that half-annoying, half-endearing check-on-me thing.

"Standing on the back porch is creepy and weird. Why don't you just come on in," I said, stifling a yawn, which was a cruel reminder of how tired I was even though sleep had proven so elusive.

"I don't know if you're brave or a fool," the vampire I'd just invited in said, but it wasn't Bill.


	3. Chapter 3

Freyda, the Queen of Oklahoma, crossed her arms and leaned casually against the corner of my kitchen table. I stood in front of the sink, drinking my water.

"Maybe both," I said.

She smiled and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. I admired her effortless beauty then gazed down at my old nightshirt. At least I hadn't worn my favorite Tweety one, which would probably seem juvenile to a vampire, even if Freyda was relatively young.

We held each other's gaze for a long moment before she finally spoke. I liked to think I could hold my own in a staring contest with a vampire. "You're never what I expect."

"I get that alot. Would you like a True Blood?" I offered.

She declined. "We need to talk. Why don't we sit down."

I led Freyda to the living room, then took a seat on the sofa and smoothed my nightshirt. She sat opposite me in the wingback, crossing her ankles. Had it not been for the unusual hour and our less than friendly association, we might have been two girlfriends sitting down for a chat. Since Freyda was the one who had shown up at my door in the middle of the night, I waited for her to explain what was on her mind.

"Our conversation was cut short last time we met. I fear I failed to communicate my true intentions and meaning," she said.

I hadn't even tried to figure out what she had been trying to tell me during our little balcony chat that Pam has so conveniently interrupted. I nodded for her to continue. I couldn't get to sleep anyway.

"I am not so proud that I cannot admit when I am wrong. The last time I was in your home, I told you that it was my opinion that Eric only _thought_ he was in love with you. I came by that night to see why he would feel that way, to try and find out why he was dragging his feet about coming to Oklahoma. I offered what any vampire in his position should have wanted, and Eric is more vampire than most. His reluctance made no sense."

If Freyda was here to talk about how confounding Eric could be, she was more than a day late and a dollar short. I'd never sought to reconcile Eric's contradictions. I'd fallen in love with him _because_ of them as much as _despite_ them. In retrospect, that seemed absurd. But it was the truth.

"You were right though, in the end," I said. Love hadn't been enough to keep him here, with me. I drained the last of my water and set my glass on the coffee table. I wished I'd refilled it before we'd come out here for this talk.

"I am trying to explain to you that I was not."

I sighed and sank back into my seat, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation: the wife of my lover, who was a vampire _queen_, no less, was trying to convince me of how right we—her husband and I—were together. It was utterly ridiculous. "Give it your best shot," I challenged.

"Eric is a fine vampire. Exactly what I needed in an ally. We complement each other. The Kingdom of Oklahoma is doing well, and dare I say, ready for expansion." Luckily I was too tired for my expression to register on my face. If I'd been well-rested, my eyebrows would have shot up.

But Freyda seemed quite proud of that fact and didn't regret revealing that feeling to me, either. For such a young vampire, she certainly was doing well for herself. A hunky husband who owed fealty to her would be quite the asset in her world. Yet she thought I had the lucky end of the deal and had told me so in Austin.

"As fun as chatting is, I still don't understand why you're telling me all this. Can you cut to the chase? I'm a human and generally sleep at this hour." What might have sounded like sarcasm once upon a time only reflected my weariness now. There was nothing for me to barter with Freyda; she already had everything she wanted of mine.

Freyda smiled again, almost fondly, without malice. It made it that much more difficult to resent her. "As I tried to say in Austin, I want you to know that I have no desire to keep Eric from you. I never have. I am even prepared to admit he is perhaps better with you than without."

"I don't follow," I said.

"You challenge him in a way I do not. You're way of looking at the world brings a valuable perspective to complicated situations."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I think it's just my survival instinct."

Freyda stood, crossed the room, and sat next to me on the sofa. She reached for my hand and clasped it in her cold one. "You still don't realize how special you are."

"Flattery won't get you far with me," I said, and pulled my hand back. "Bottom-line this for me, why don't you."

"How is your relationship with your king, Sookie?" Freyda asked, leaning back and stretching her arms across the back of the sofa. She looked very relaxed, completely at ease. My heart rate started to increase, and by her sly smile, I figured she realized she'd caught me off guard.

"We don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but manage to maintain a working relationship. I help keep down fraud in his casinos, he lets me live my life here." _For now_, I reminded myself. There was little other than tradition prompting him to honor Pam's official claim on me, and nothing more than my goodwill as an incentive not to coerce me into doing more for him.

"There are some who are critical of the way he manages his affairs. He is stretched thin with preparations for the anniversary celebrations in both Las Vegas and New Orleans. Non-contiguous territory is not ideal. Even other Naranya monarchs express the private belief that he is overstretched and the approval of the takeover was ill-advised."

My response time lagged. In the middle of the night after little sleep, I wasn't firing on all cylinders. But a few things finally made sense.

Why so many monarchs attended that seemingly spur of the moment security meeting. Why Felipe wasn't there. Why it was held in Austin. There was only one explanation. Freyda was working with Stan and possibly others to overthrow Castro's regime. They'd probably split the territory, restore balance. What I didn't see was what a potential takeover had to do with me.

So I assumed the worst. Freyda was acting so friendly because she wanted to run Felipe out of Louisiana and Arkansas and get a bonus telepath in the deal.

I'd been living in relative peace for years. I'd gotten used to the status quo. My gut told me to resist these plans, which would surely involve danger and violence. I wasn't naive enough to think that this meant I'd be living under a benevolent monarch and Eric and I would live happily ever after. That wasn't how things worked in the supernatural world.

I had to make a choice: support Freyda, or remain loyal to Felipe. I wouldn't let any of my romantic feelings for Eric sway me.

"Does Pam know of these plans?" I asked. I trusted her a lot more than Freyda.

"Yes."

"And Eric?"

"Yes."

Which begged the question of why Freyda was the one informing me of them. I'd save that question for Pam.

"Was the news story portraying Eric and I as star crossed lovers part of your plan?"

Freyda laughed. "No, it most certainly was not. But that doesn't mean we can't use it to our advantage."

So my relationship was a tool, leverage. Something for a PR rep to spin. I suddenly felt nauseous.

"I've got no love for Felipe, that's true. If there's a plan to overthrow him, I've known nothing about it until tonight, and have no intentions of either supporting it or thwarting it. As for Eric, if he has something to say to me about our relationship, he's better off doing it himself than sending his wife. It's late, and I'm tired, and I think you should go." I stood from the couch and lifted my glass from the table, and just as I walked past the front door on the way to refill my water and show Freyda out, there was a knock on my front door. A quick scan revealed a vampire mind on my porch, and when I extended my reach further, I realized several more were scattered around my property at the edge of the woods.

Though I was certain I knew who it was, I peeked through the window just to be sure. I wasn't going to assume the identity of a vampire visitor for the second time that night. I only wished I'd been wrong.

To her credit, Freyda didn't look the least bit worried. I only wished I felt the same.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pam," I said as I opened the door. A wave of relief swept over me that she was finally here. I wouldn't have to deal with this alone.

Still, it was too close to dawn to have time to take care of everything that we needed to do tonight. I sighed, realizing that she'd have to spend the night here. She didn't like the accommodations beneath my closet. I'd never been able to bring myself to remind her that they'd been good enough for her maker.

Her maker, who hadn't shown up tonight.

"I got the guards that Bill didn't send to their final death corralled. We'll question them to see if they really have renounced Felipe's regime, but for tonight, we won't be taking any chances. Bill and I managed to silver them and throw them underneath his pantry."

She took a seat around my kitchen table. I realized I should probably offer her a blood, but I'd run out of hospitality for the night. "Twice in one night, Sookie. I'm really putting miles on the new Subaru, coming out here all the time." She winked at me.

But I just couldn't see the humor in the situation. "Well if we have to skip town, you're going to be adding a lot more. You know your travel coffin won't fit in the back of my car."

"We're not running anywhere. Not after all the work to keep you in this backwoods town you love so much," Pam said, sounding almost hurt by my suggestion.

"The vampire king of Louisiana, Arkansas, and Nevada is a pile of dust in my living room. Fleeing seems like a good idea." I didn't like the idea of running away from my problem, but I didn't want to predict what would happen if I didn't. After all this time, I finally felt like I was at my breaking point. I wiped away tears I hadn't even realized were still streaming down my face.

"If we leave the state, all this will have been for nothing. We'll leave a power vacuum and some vicious vampire will not hesitate to try and take advantage of it. And you are stronger than this, Sookie," Pam said with conviction.

I didn't feel strong. Feelings from the past I'd worked hard over the years to seal off inside my heart had burst through, flooding me with the memory of danger, pain, and worst of all, helplessness. For the first time in a long time, I'd feared for my life tonight.

I knew Eric couldn't have felt my fear, but still, I'd called for him, reaching inside for that connection we'd once shared though I knew it was gone. While we fought Felipe, I wondered if Freyda had done the same. Of course, she was an excellent fighter, and like Eric, enjoyed it. Felipe had made the mistake of accepting my invitation to enter my home, and he'd paid with his life.

When I opened the door to greet him, with Freyda standing in the shadow by the stairs, I'd said, "I wasn't expecting you, Felipe," in what might have passed for a calm manner if my voice hadn't been shaking.

Years ago, I'd dispensed with formalities with Felipe, at least when we weren't in the presence of others. Curtsying had never been my thing, and after our negotiations and my threats, the farce was tiresome for us both.

Felipe just scowled back at me, then asked to be invited in. As soon as he crossed the threshold and spotted Freyda, his fangs descended. I assumed he thought that Pam or maybe Bill was the vampire present in my home, which was why he hadn't exercised more caution.

They attacked each other at once, so quickly I scrambled to get out of the way. Neither was prepared with weapons, so it was a rough, wrestling kind of fight. I watched in horror as they destroyed my gran's favorite side table. They were dashing around so quickly in the confined face, it was hard for me to stay on the fringes.

Freyda must have eventually tired of the brawl, because she switched strategies by darting away from Felipe and grabbing me by the shoulders and baring her fangs at my throat.

"Stop, or I'll kill your precious telepath," she hissed.

"You aren't prepared for the fallout if that girl dies," Felipe said. For a vampire who'd just been in an all out fight to the death, he was surprisingly unrumpled. He leaned casually against the doorjamb. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I wondered if Freyda was serious about her threat. "Eric will never support you if you end that girl."

"Eric doesn't have a choice. He'll never break with me." Freyda's grip on my shoulders tightened. "And from what he told me, she tastes amazing. It'd be worth his grumpiness just to drain her."

"Your presence in my area is an act of war in itself. If you harm her, even your allies will pull their support." Felipe crossed his arms casually across his chest. "Sookie, invite in my guards." Freyda's fangs grazed my neck, stinging where they scraped against my skin. Blood trickled down and pooled in the crevice of my collarbone.

That didn't sound like a good idea to me. I wasn't sure whose side I was on, only that more vampires in my house was not the solution to this problem. "How about we all sit down and have a nice civil chat? No one has to die tonight." _This morning_, I mentally amended, noting the time on the clock on the wall, ticking away the seconds as if they were my last.

"I have nothing to discuss with another monarch who is trying to encroach on my area," Felipe hissed. "Kill her, and you'll be torn apart."

I got the bright idea to rescind Felipe and Freyda's invitations so they could duke it out on my front lawn, but before I got to the second syllable, Freyda clamped her hand across my mouth. If only I'd been thinking clearly while they'd been scuffling on the floor, I might not be in the position I was in and Gran's table would have survived.

"I am not looking to invade your territory. I simply needed to make sure that Sookie and I reached an understanding about her relationship with my consort. I'm sure your spies told you about their tryst in Austin before it made every gossip news show had their hosts sighing over the star-crossed lovers."

"Which was exactly the subject I wished to discuss with Sookie, myself," Felipe admitted.

"She is a distraction to Eric, one that won't be tolerated. I told her if she attempted to ensnare him again, I would kill her."

"My thoughts on the subject were of a similar line. I am none too happy about Northman's remarks to the press, either, and hope you will deal with that accordingly."

"Of course," Freyda replied.

Freyda removed her hand from my mouth, making it easier to breathe. She licked the line of blood from my neck, then released me. As imminent danger seemed to pass, I noticed that the bubbles of blank space that marked the vampires circling my house were "popping." Neither Felipe nor Freyda seemed to notice, and I wasn't going to volunteer that information.

"I'm going to get a band aid," I said, and went into the kitchen, but instead, I grabbed my shotgun. Vampires die from beheading, and blowing their heads off is pretty much the same thing.

Vampires have always sought to control me, even those that I've come to care for, and I was done with it. I aimed at Felipe and fired. Luckily, I'm a decent shot. He started to crumble and disintegrate now that his head was mostly in pieces scattered across the room.

Freyda looked stunned, but before she could comment, I said, "get out of my house before I do the same to you."

I rescinded her invitation after she left, then collapsed on the floor. Bill stopped by to check on me. If I had to live next door to a vampire ex-boyfriend, I could do worse than Bill. Pam had showed up shortly after, acting annoyed at the mess I'd created, but still secretly impressed that I'd killed Felipe.

"He had it coming, anyway," Pam said.

"That's the truth," I said, and a dry laugh fell out of my mouth.

"C'mon, let's clean up. I'll hold the dustpan if you sweep." And that was how Felipe de Castro died.

When we were done, the place still looked a wreck, but at least most of the evidence was gone. I'd figure out the rest tomorrow, right after I worked an 8 hour shift at Merlotte's.

"I'm sorry for complicating your plans." _Even though you didn't tell me what they were, _I added mentally. There was a time that I'd wished I could stay completely out of vampire machinations, but others, my life seemed to depend on that knowledge. Classic catch-22.

"The early death of the person you're trying to kill is a good problem to have, Sookie. We'll figure it out." She patted me affectionately on the butt. "Off to bed for you. I'm going to tuck myself into that cramped hole in the closet, and I'll see you tomorrow at first dark."


	5. Chapter 5

After too little sleep I rolled out of bed, pulled myself into a vaguely presentable state, and headed out to open Merlotte's. I had a date with the books (Sam and I had a deal—I handled the bills and banking, he took care of inventory and ordering supplies) so I meant to get a jump on reconciling the statements before the lunch rush.

It was hard to concentrate on spreadsheets and accounts receivable when less that 10 hours earlier I'd blown off the head of the vampire king of three states with an old shotgun.

Before I knew it, I was Googling my own name, a vain practice I'd never dared to try before this morning out of fear for what I'd find.

It was right there. The link to Darlene's blog was the third result after the Fox News and CNN stories that had been picked it up off the Associated Press. And dozens of other blogs and vampire news chattering about my personal life without my permission were all on the first page of the results. My veins burned with anger…and curiosity.

A lot of people were talking about my relationship with Eric Northman. Everyone but us, it seemed.

There was a knock at the door. I minimized the screen and jumped out of my chair as if I'd been caught doing something unseemly.

But it was just the beer delivery guy, dropping off this week's order. I'd forgotten that with the holiday, they'd be coming on Tuesday rather than Monday. And Brad, the beer truck driver, was in a big hurry on account of having two days worth of stops to make.

"Gonna help or what?" he grumbled at me as he set down a case, then pulled up his pants. "Or you too good for manual labor?"

I blew out an exasperated breath, blowing stray hairs out of my face. Since I wasn't too good to haul beer, I followed him out to the truck and concentrated on looking anywhere other than Brad's butt. His crack was peeking out above his pants by the time we made it to the storeroom on each trip. Of all mornings, he'd had to forget his belt today.

By the time I'd counted all the cases and signed off on the order slip, we were ready to open. Some early customers came in after the PTA meeting (those moms ordered a big pitcher of margaritas) and then it was the road crew and the two ladies from the post office, and then a big group of roustabouts who'd been checking on some nearby wells.

So it wasn't until late afternoon that I sat down at the computer again, with every intention of seeing to my spreadsheets. But that window was there, taunting me.

Perhaps seeing what other people were saying about Eric and I would help me sort out my own feelings. Perhaps thinking about the problem of being in the news was simpler than worrying about what would happen when the sun set, and people started to ask questions about what happened to Felipe de Castro. And so, I clicked the link to see what Eric might have said about me to a random vampire who had started asking questions.

_I have been a vampire for a short time. Some will argue that I cling to humanity, but I think my regular readers know that I've embraced the change. I love being a vampire. With this site, my goal has always been to promote mainstreaming by giving a window into the vampire world to my readers so they might know that it isn't all blood and gore and fangs and fucking. I've brought you the stories of real vampires, both the glitzy celebs and the every day people._

_But I haven't been sharing the whole story._

_There are vampires who don't want to play nice with humans. These vampires want to take advantages of living in the open, yet retain their feudal, anachronistic ways._

_Just like humans sometimes do, these vampires kill. They exploit. They do terrible, unspeakable things._

_I decided it's time to start talking._

_There is a vampire who is old, so old he is a legend. He has survived because he has adapted to the new world. He does not enter fights he cannot win. By all accounts he has always been cold, calculating, practical._

_Then he fell in love with a human. She is no ordinary woman._

_She is an extraordinary one, one who has done much for our kind. One whose wit and grace and bravery and strength set her apart. He is not the only one to be taken with her, but his love has endured, despite circumstances—other vampires—that have conspired to keep them apart._

_Before last weekend, I only knew snippets of the stories, gossip and intrigue about a girl who had been staked, had been shot, had been tortured, often in defense of our kind. I heard whispers of a mystical bond, a secret marriage. Of a love that transcended the divide between immortality and mortality._

_I thought it had been a rumor, just one of those stories that circulates. Then I saw their eyes meet as they suddenly found themselves in the same room after years spent apart. And for that moment, the rest of the world fell away. It was obvious that something external was keeping them apart, and not their own hearts._

_When I asked Sookie Stackhouse, a human I met before and had greatly admired, if she was the woman that had captured the heart of Eric Northman, she cryptically replied: "you'll have to ask him."_

_So I did, and here is what he said when I asked him if he loved Sookie Stackhouse: "of course I do."_

_He had just emerged from her room, moments before dawn, with a rumpled suit a deep scowl._

_"But you aren't staying?" I asked, though I knew it was dangerous to question him. I had to know._

_"She does not think love is enough." And though it seemed to take a great effort, he walked away._

_I am posting this with full knowledge of what the results of my actions could be. But I feel it is important to say that love should be enough. Enough to try. To allow vampire politics and power struggles to keep two people who love each other apart is wrong. There are others who agree with me, who want a more progressive way of doing things, who want to expose those who cling to the old ways. And if we start with love—maybe the killings and the exploitation and the rest of it can stop, too._

I imagined it was being reported by the major news sources, but I was already fighting back tears, and I didn't want to confirm what I already knew. Darlene, the young vampire from Kansas who I'd laughed with when she visited Fangtasia, was now finally dead.

As dead as Felipe de Castro. And for the same reason, too.

I still had to balance the books, whatever was going to happen once the sun went down. Grateful that I'd taken that class at the community college in Monroe, I got through last month's financials in record time, without any further distraction. Sam would be happy that we'd kept labor costs low and our new Wednesday night specials seemed to be drawing in more business on what was typically our slowest night of the week. I was glad I was still able to take pleasure in the small things.

I cashed out the afternoon's waitresses as the night shift arrived to take their places. After bringing Sam up to speed on things, I stepped out into the back lot, but instead of going straight to my car, I walked back around to the copse that separated Sam's land from the creek that ran through the woods.

As the sky turned brilliant shades of purple and red and gold, I sat down against the trunk of a tree to think.

This was where it had all started. I thought back to the night I met my first vampire. Realistically, I knew there was nothing I could have done differently. My cousin Hadley had already sparked Queen Sophie Ann's interest in me. If I hadn't saved Bill from the Rattrays, she just would have sent someone else. If I hadn't gone to Fangtasia looking to clear Jason's name in those murders, the true killer might have never been brought to justice. Gran might not have died such a gruesome death, but she was never going to live forever. And if she was here now, she'd tell me to stop worrying about the past, which I couldn't change.

Of course, that was easier said than done, and I leaned back and indulged in five minutes regret as the sun set. But I couldn't bring myself to regret falling in love with Eric.

Then I picked up myself, dusted off my butt, and went home. Pam would be getting up, and hopefully we could work out a plan B for whatever plot she'd been working on with Oklahoma behind my back.


	6. Chapter 6

I pulled up to my front porch intent on taking a shower before getting down to tonight's business, but all hopes of freshening up before the evening's work began were dashed when I realized that Pam was already up, enjoying a True Blood on my front porch swing with Freyda.

Instead of parking around back I pulled to a stop in front and wearily exited my car. When I'd rescinded Freyda's invitation last night, it was in the hopes of never having to see her again. Oh, what a fool I'd been.

I felt a little better when I realized that Freyda was covered in a thin layer of dirt. I might have smelled like grease and beer, but at least I'd slept in my own bed instead of the ground.

"Good evening, Sookie," Pam said brightly. "We've just been discussing what happened last night and reevaluating our plans."

"Did Freyda happen to mention that she bit me last night?" I said, because I couldn't shake the feeling of her licking up a trail of blood from my neck while I watched her sip on the bottle of True Blood. Especially when she was eyeing me as if she'd very much like to do it again.

Pam's fangs extended and she hissed, but Freyda looked non-plussed. "I had to convince Felipe that I had come here only to threaten and warn Sookie. At the time there was no guarantee that he'd wouldn't be leaving."

"But you knew he'd show up," I said.

"It wasn't my plan, but yes." Freyda responded. I looked to Pam for help. I was completely in the dark about whatever the plan was, and had no idea who had been behind it.

"Sookie, your friend Darlene, the vampire gossip whore…she met her final death last night," Pam informed me.

"Yeah, I figured. But it's her own fault. Anyone stupid enough to say what she said…"

"I told you not to look," Pam chastised. Freyda smiled again. Both were quite irritating.

"I've never been one to hide from what people truly thought about me. I've listened to it all my life."

"True," Pam said thoughtfully. "Why don't we all go in and sit down?" She stood, as did the queen of Oklahoma.

Freyda was lucky I hadn't killed her last night. Though I hated to admit it, I hadn't been able to fire the shotgun at her because I didn't know what it would do to Eric.

But that didn't mean I had to admit her into my home. Even Gran's hospitality had had its limits.

"I'm not inviting her into my house again."

"Eric led me to believe that you were very forgiving, Sookie. Or perhaps you have changed," Freyda said, managing to look royal even in her dirty and disheveled state.

"Perhaps," I said, but I didn't really think I had, at least not where it counted.

I looked at Pam, who had stood at my door ready to cross the threshold. After the long night I'd had full of heartache and murder and too little sleep with a ten hour workday on top of it, I was feeling frayed at the edges, a loose wire liable to spark or even ignite into a blaze. If I was being honest with myself, in that moment, I just wanted to cry while Pam held me.

But our relationship, despite how close we were, wasn't like that.

I suddenly realized I didn't have anyone like that. I had my brother and Sam. Tara and JB, Hoyt and Holly, and their beautiful kids. I had Hunter. I had friends and family and all the wonderful and weird people of Bon Temps. Yet I was still utterly and completely alone.

The world felt very large, and despite the extra pounds I'd put on over the last few years, I felt very small.

Maybe I had changed after all. But it still didn't feel as if it was in a significant way.

"Freyda, why don't you give us a moment," Pam said, and took my hand and guided me into my living room. She slid her arm around me and led me to the kitchen, careful to keep the view of the ransacked living room out of my line of sight.

"I made a mistake," Pam said, humbly and contrite and matter-of-factly. She dropped her arm from around my waist and I sat in the chair in front of the kitchen table while she took the one across from me. "I once lambasted Eric for not telling you everything he knew, so I should have known better and have no excuse for keeping you in the dark." Apparently we had lifted the moratorium on speaking his name. It sounded thick and heavy falling from her mouth.

"Why don't you just fill me in now," I said, and so she did.

The plan had been to take out Felipe the night of the 10th anniversary celebration. They'd set it up to make it look like a Fellowship attack. Nevada was to stay in Naranya's hands, but Louisiana and Arkansas would go to Zeus. Freyda and the other monarchs of Zeus had supported the plot because two of their own had been slated to take over the rest of Felipe's former kingdom. Darlene's Bosnian maker, Drazen, had been in line to inherit the territory in Arkansas. Which was why he'd concocted the plot to sacrifice his new child in the process of hastening along Felipe's demise.

Pam's very abbreviated explanation made little sense. It was steeped in the balance of power that vampire politics required, and I'd never fully understood the undercurrents and fragile dynamics necessary to maintain the peace.

"Then Eric and I—we're really just pawns," I said, after she'd told me what she'd been withholding all this time. The media circus surrounding my most private feelings was nothing more than political theater. In retrospect, I should have made it a point to ask who was poised to succeed Felipe in Louisiana. The old me would have wondered.

Maybe I had changed in important ways. Pam didn't speak, but it felt like she was leading me to that conclusion.

"Why is she still here?" I asked. I was still registering the void of Freyda's thoughts waiting on my porch. I just wished she'd go away and leave me alone.

"You'll have to ask Freyda that," Pam said.

"What about Felipe's people? Someone must know he is dead. We can't be safe."

"We had spies in his court, among his guard. Bill and I managed to eliminate all those who were loyal to him and knew of his intention to visit you last night. There should be no immediate threat to you," Pam explained.

Which meant that I only had to anticipate the normal amount of danger. The level I was forced to tolerate, just by the nature of what I was and who I loved.

"So many people have died because of me," I said.

"Don't let those deaths be in vain," Pam replied, and with that, she left. No doubt she had business to see to that didn't involve me. Fangtasia and sheriff duties. Sometimes it startled me how much she took after her maker.

Pam must trust Freyda, who was still waiting on my porch, to leave me alone with her again.

"I only want a minute more of your time," Freyda called from the porch. "It is dangerous for a monarch to be gone from her kingdom for so long, especially unaccompanied and in enemy territory."

I couldn't help but think that the it wasn't enemy territory anymore, since she was installing the new monarch with her Zeus friends, but maybe she meant my land rather than the state of Louisiana. Still, whatever Freyda and I were, it was a lot more complicated than enemies.

I nodded for her to continue, staying safely on the inside of my door.

"When Drazen came to me and told me his scheme, I thought it a foolish plan. Until he reminded me that you have killed many of our kind and seem to perform well under pressure. He thought you should be the one to take out Felipe. When he learned of Darlene's interest in your tragic love story, he seized the opportunity to maneuver Felipe into your home. We all assumed you'd kill him or be killed before submitting to him further. When our spies alerted us that he would be paying you a visit, I came myself, in the hopes of ensuring he'd be the one to perish, and not you. Pam knew nothing of what was happening last night, I assure you."

"Why are you telling me this? Why do you care what I think of you?"

"It's for him, of course. I may not love him as you do, but I value him and his happiness."

"If Eric has something to say to me, he can say it himself. Please, just leave." Freyda nodded, and with that, she departed.

Without a second glance at the destruction to my living room, I went straight to the bathroom and peeled off my work clothes. I ran the shower as hot as I could get it, then stepped into the spray. As the the steam rose, I leaned my forehead against the tile and cried.

I cried for how naive I'd been these last few years, leading my normal life, expecting my tie to Pam to keep me safe. I cried for all the people who'd died in stupid vampire power plays. I cried for all I'd given up, all I'd lost, all that had been taken from me.

I cried so long and hard, I didn't notice a vampire creeping through my house until he'd pulled open my shower curtain. Whirling around to face him, I choked on a sob.

"Don't you dare step inside here," I said, and I meant it.


	7. Chapter 7

"Do I look like I'm poised to climb into the shower with you?" Eric asked, gesturing up and down his body, which was covered in dark slacks and a thin, long-sleeved charcoal sweater. I glanced down and saw he was still wearing his socks and shoes. If Eric had been planning on stepping into the shower with me, he'd have stripped.

"Then get out of my bathroom!" I said, and pulled my shower curtain closed. He jerked it right back open. The water had begun to run cold and with the fresh burst of air Eric let in, I was freezing.

"And stand in the other room and listen to you cry as you run up the water bill? I think not," he replied.

I wondered why I had never rescinded his invitation. Must have been the same reason I didn't have the nerve to do it now.

Eric reached and turned off the water, then pulled a towel off the rack and attempted to wrap me in it, but I yanked it from his hands and avoided his unfathomable blue eyes.

"Don't," I choked out, but Eric understood despite my sob and stepped back, his hands held up in a show of resignation.

"Sookie," he started, but I cut him off.

"No. You need to leave my bathroom, now," I said, because I was barely holding it together and I didn't want Eric to see me fall apart.

He retreated and I didn't take another breath until the door closed. Using the towel Eric had handed me I dried my face and arms, then wrapped it around my body and grabbed a second for my hair. When I was mostly dry I pulled out my winter robe, which was pink and fuzzy fleece with a pattern of penguins and absolutely hideous. I avoided my own eyes in the mirror as I dried my hair as best as I could, then ran a comb through the unforgiving tangles. Since nothing could be gained from delaying, I took a deep breath and went to deal with Eric.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was sitting on my bed, his hand stroking my old quilt as if he could feel the memories it held.

Memories of brain-addled Eric holding my hand under the covers as I drifted off to sleep; Eric and I making love for the first time; when the memories of that time came rushing back to him, and when we made love again, after we were bonded and married. I watched each memory of us, together in my bed, play out over his features in just a few moments.

"Oh, no. Not here," I said. The last time I'd seen Eric, I hadn't been able to keep my lust under wraps, all because of a look like the one he was giving me now. Even if I wasn't feeling very sexy right now, I wasn't taking any chances.

"Where?" he said, standing, ready to follow me.

Our eyes met. It didn't matter where, I realized. We'd never required a bed. Every room in this house was full of memories of the two of us, together as one. But last time I'd made the mistake of just falling into Eric's arms, and I couldn't let it happen again.

I still turned and walked to the kitchen because the living room was a disaster from last night's vampire visitors. We sat opposite each other around the table, and I rested my elbows on the edge, cradling my head in my hand.

"I am not supposed to be here," he said.

"Then why did you come?" I asked softly. Presumably, he wasn't supposed to come here, ever. "Why now?"

"There must be some hope left in me yet," he said. The grim line of his mouth didn't look hopeful at all.

"I killed Felipe. Blew his head right off." I bit my lip to keep from crying. I'd never been a weepy woman, but I was fighting back a fresh wave of tears. True to form, Eric's mood changed considerably.

"I know. I only wish I had been here to see it." Eric smiled wide, practically gleeful with joy at the death of his enemies and pride that it had been me to dispatch him. That smile was everything I loved—and hated—about Eric.

"I wanted to kill Freyda, too," I confessed. Then the tears did start flowing.

In an instant, Eric had swept me out of my seat, taken it for himself and cradled me in his lap. I cried harder, balled my hand into a fist, and hit him squarely on the chest. I hit him again and again as I wept while he murmured soothing sounds into my ear, not once moving to block a blow.

I hit him for every time I'd defended him, every time he'd disappointed me. I hit him because he wasn't strong enough to fight for us.

Eventually the anger drained out of me and I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my cheek against the cool skin of his neck. His hands gently rubbed up and down my back until I'd calmed.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," he finally said. "She is not our enemy."

"I don't trust her," I replied.

"Do you still trust me?" he asked, softly, and I could feel the tension in him as he waited for my response.

I thought about it as I stroked the back of his neck, glad that he couldn't see the expression on my face. It surely would have betrayed my ambivalence.

"I don't know," I finally said. "No one is telling me what's going on. Even Pam is keeping me in the dark," which was an odd expression considering I was talking about a vampire.

"Will you listen if I tell you what's been happening to the best of my knowledge?" I nodded and reluctantly lifted my head from Eric's shoulder to face him and brushed tears off my cheeks. Eric grabbed my hand and kissed them away. I needed my own seat if we really were going to talk, so I vacated Eric's lap and returned to his seat. He pulled it closer to him and took my hand, promising with his eyes to behave himself, if only I'd let him touch me. It wasn't a hard request to honor.

I looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to begin, but he hesitated.

"I'm not sure where to start," he said.

"How about the beginning?"

A strangely introspective look crossed his face, incongruous on the hard lines of his features.

"Do you remember when we first met, and your ability prompted me to recall a psychic I once knew?"

I was dumfounded. When I'd said the beginning, I'd meant as far back as the cluviel dor and when he left, or maybe when we'd first become involved. I certainly never expected the beginning to go back to when we'd first met. It felt like several lifetimes ago.

Little did I know Eric would go back to the Renaissance.

"The year was 1517, and I first met your great-grandfather, Niall, when I developed an interest in one of his line. Her name was Lucia, and she is the psychic I thought of when I first met you._ That_ is the beginning."


	8. Chapter 8

"Do we really have time for all that tonight?" I asked. I wasn't sure I had the energy to hear such ancient history.

"How about the abbreviated version?" Eric asked. I nodded.

"Lucia taught me how to blend in with humans. Before her, I lived on the fringes. But the world was changing. The energy of the Renaissance drew me in. I no longer wanted to live in the shadows."

Eric's eyes were in a far away place, even though his hand firmly gripped mine in the here and now.

"I didn't believe in her power at first. But she told me the night we first met that I would fall in love with you. And that I would kill her."

I didn't think this story was going to have a happy ending.

"I wanted to keep her with me. I liked not having to hide what I was. I liked the taste of her blood. And she wanted to escape her life. I had to best her brother in a sword fight. It was fun." Eric's eyes sparkled with the thrill of battle, and it wasn't hard to picture him in period costume with a sword and that exuberant smile of victory that suited him so well.

"I didn't love her," he said. But he'd fought for her, and yet he claimed to love me and hadn't done anything nearly as dramatic as wield a sword in order to be with me. The realization stung, but I nodded for him to continue. "But we were a great team. I tried to turn her, but I was unsuccessful. That was the first time I thought she might have been right about my future. She was right about me killing her."

Eric's thumb drew circles on my hand and his mouth formed a thin line. His eyes were a stormy blue, as if he'd come to the part of the story he was reluctant to tell me.

"I didn't really believe her, despite the evidence, until just before we left for Rhodes. The night I found Pam talking with you behind Merlotte's…do you remember?"

Of course I did. Pam had told me the story of how Eric had murdered her, then asked me to have mercy on him. It wasn't a conversation that was easy to forget.

"I didn't remember our time together, but I still had all these feelings. When I found out the nature of the spell, it only compounded them. And just like the first time I met you, I thought of Lucia."

Eric's grip on my hand tightened, to the point where I cried out. "Eric, you're hurting me."

He released me and apologized. Pulling my chair even closer to him, he turned so we were facing and rubbed up and down my arms. He crouched in front of me so we were on eye level. It reminded me of the time he'd told me about Bill's betrayal before I'd gone to Jackson. I didn't like it.

"Faced with the reality of my curse, I could no longer deny that you were my heart's desire. Which did not bode well for you."

I opened my mouth to argue with him. _But I loved—love—you _I started to say. Instead, I sighed with defeat. He was right. It hadn't gone well for me.

"Lucia knew long before we met that I would kill her, though not the manner. The first night we were together, she explained to me that free will exists, but there are different paths that can lead to certain events. People choose their path, though they can't control the outcome. Just the circumstances."

His hands stilled on my shoulders. He brushed my still-damp hair over my shoulders, and let his fingers trace the line of my throat under the collar of my pink fleece penguin bathrobe.

"Lucia once told me the joy of love always outweighs the cost. She said most people are not strong enough to love. She didn't think she was strong enough for it, or perhaps, just knew it wasn't in the stars for her, which was why she was content to be my companion after several unsuccessful marriages. It might seem sad to you, but love was a luxury for humans in those days."

Love still felt like a luxury to me. Nearly 500 years later, that still hadn't changed.

"She always regretted that she would never meet you, you know. She was very curious about the girl with the strange name that would capture my heart."

This was all very interesting. There were few times when Eric had revealed so much to me. This speech was longer than the time he told me of his human family and the time he explained the vampire system of government to me combined. But I was weary and anxious and not sure I could just sit here and listen while he hovered over the point he was trying to make. He needed to come in for a landing.

"Eric, I feel like there's something you're trying to say. I wish you'd just get it out. I'm very intrigued by this history lesson, don't get me wrong. But I don't see what it has to do with Freyda, or Felipe, or the fact that right now there is no monarch of the kingdoms of Nevada, Louisiana, and Arkansas."

"I tried not to love you, Sookie. Believe me. But I do."

Eric leaned forward and kissed me. Hard, but closed-mouthed, on the lips.

"I love you, and Lucia told me my love would be the death of you. And that, Sookie, is why I left for Oklahoma. Because I didn't want my love to be what killed you."

We were both very quiet and still for several moments. Our eyes locked, and time seemed to stand still.

I had always known that there were things Eric didn't tell me. I was mostly glad for his secrets, even as frustrating and inconvenient as they sometimes were.

When Eric had been so quick to promise not to turn me, I had been suspicious. Now I understood why it had been so easy for him to give me his word. He didn't want his love for me to be what killed me, even if it was fated.

The weight of Eric's revelation hung on my shoulders. His hands started moving, squeezing and massaging my tense muscles. His expression was contrite, but longing hid in the corners of his sharp features.

I stood from my chair, scooting it back. Eric remained on his knees in front of me, which reminded me too much of our last encounter, so I pulled him up.

I let Eric's words roll over in my mind. It still wasn't the whole story. Something told me that Niall played a larger role in this history that Eric had divulged, especially considering that I knew about their visit to Terry. Though I had intended for him to explain the plot behind Felipe's murder and what was planned for the 10th anniversary celebration of the Great Revelation, he left me with more questions than answers. But I'd had enough for tonight.

"I'm going to bed," I announced. Eric hadn't let go of my hand, and I couldn't force my fingers to uncurl from his. He followed through the house to my room, took off his shoes and followed me into bed.

I curled up against him, pulled the covers up around us, then laid my head on his chest, comforted by his strong arms around me and the silence of his heart.

"I love you, Sookie," he whispered.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought his words sounded an awful lot like he was telling me I was going to die.


	9. Chapter 9

When I woke up, the day was already mostly over. Which was probably why Sam was pounding on my door. He'd let himself in with the extra key I keep hidden under a rock on the porch by the time I'd climbed out of bed, still weary from the long night I had.

"Sookie! You weren't answering your phone, you didn't show up at the bar, I've been going crazy with worry!" he said.

I was the worst partner ever. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized the lunch rush was already over and I'd completely missed work.

"God, Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't wake up, and…"

"It's okay," he said and pulled me into a hug. "You're all right. In all the years I've known you, you've never overslept and missed work. I just assumed the worst."

I pulled away from him, because I was still wearing just my ugly old bathrobe and giving a hug to a man I had nothing but platonic feelings for without a bra on felt wrong.

"I had a long night. Long couple of nights." I still felt like I could sleep for hours, but I went to the cabinet and pulled out the coffee to start a pot brewing. As much as I wanted to crawl back under the covers and forget about my problems, I knew it wouldn't do any good.

"What happened to your living room?"

I groaned. That was a mess I wasn't in the mood to clean up.

"Oh, I shot the vampire king of Louisiana in the head with my shot gun the other night."

"What!" Sam said, which was a mild reaction I thought, considering. I gave him the abridged version of the night. He gave me a look of concern but bit back whatever he was thinking, which was a snarled mess. I was glad I couldn't pick up the details from his thoughts. I wasn't in the mood for his judgment. Sam and I had our disagreements, but he was still my closest friend.

"How about you have a cup of coffee and then get dressed." Apparently Sam was as embarrassed by my bralessness as I was. "I'll haul the broken furniture out back, and then we'll sweep up."

For lack of a better plan, I put that one in motion. It was better than further discussing my problems.

When I walked past my spare bedroom, I noticed the boxes I'd been storing in the closet were scattered around the room. So Eric was here. That hadn't been a weird dream.

It took the rest of the afternoon, but Sam and I got my living room back as close as it was going to get to the way it had been before. I made us sandwiches and we ate them in silence. The sun was setting, and I hoped Sam didn't linger. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and feelings before Eric emerged.

"Thanks for dinner," Sam said as I hustled him out of the door.

"Oh no problem. Next time maybe I'll actually cook," I joked. Ham and cheese sandwiches weren't exactly gourmet.

"It's nice to eat anything that doesn't come from the kitchen at our bar," Sam said. "Some nights I wonder why men come in and drown their sorrows in beer and baskets of onion rings when they could have a nice home cooked meal."

Since Jannalynn, Sam's love life had been as unfortunate as mine. We both missed sharing a meal and the day's events with someone special. He was right. It wasn't the same at the bar, the only place either of us ever talked to anyone most days.

"Next week. You. Me. And the best of Gran's recipes."

"It's a date," he said. I frowned. "Oh, not like that, I just meant, yes, let's do it." He smiled sheepishly.

"Great," I said, and flashed him the best smile I could muster. I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, he'd just caught me off guard. My romantic life was so screwed up, the prospect of a date terrified me.

"Hey, Sookie?" Sam said, turning after he'd opened the door and started to step outside. "If ten years ago I hadn't been such a fool, and I'd asked you out, do you think things might be different?"

I sighed. It wasn't the first time I'd considered that question. I'd had a crush on Sam when I'd first started working at Merlotte's, but it took years for me to learn he'd felt the same, and by then, there was no way we'd ever be anything other than friends. Could we have ended up business partners, owning a bar together, under much different circumstances? I didn't know.

I thought about what Eric had said last night. About fate, and mine in particular.

"I don't know, Sam." But I did have a theory. "I think there's certain events that are destined. Like benchmarks. Targets that must be hit. But it seems like there must be free will. If not, why does any of it matter?"

"I guess fate is a tricky thing," he said. "If I could go back and do it again, I would."

It was a nice sentiment, but it didn't matter, so I said the only thing that I could. "Goodnight, Sam," I said.

"'Night, Sookie, and don't miss work tomorrow."

I closed the door and went to wash the dirty dishes and tidy up the kitchen. I was wiping off the table when Eric strode in.

"Hi," I said.

He nodded.

"Sorry, I don't have any blood on hand."

He quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Bottled, I mean." I blushed.

"It's fine. I can't stay long, anyway," Eric said. I wondered if he meant he'd feed on someone else when he left, and I couldn't get the image of the time I'd walked in on that years ago out of my head. It wasn't a pleasant memory.

"Oh," I said because nothing else came to mind.

"You could come with me," he said.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I understand," he said, but didn't elaborate about what. "I will see you soon, though. It is only three days until the anniversary celebration."

"I know. And what happens now that Felipe is dead?" I kept asking, but no one was filling me in.

"The changes are all taking place behind the scenes. The party will happen as planned, without the assassination attempt." Eric smiled widely. "Now that business is all taken care of, it will leave us free to dance," he said.

Eric was a surprisingly good dancer, and there were few things I enjoyed more than dancing. But things between us weren't that simple.

"Would it be wise, to be seen dancing with the consort to the Queen of Oklahoma?"

"It will be expected. Now that others have made our past so public, there's no reason to hide."

"I don't get a choice in the matter?"

"Like you said, Sookie. There is always a choice. What is it that you want?"

It wasn't often that a question like that was posed to me. I turned from him and rinsed out the rag I'd used to wipe down the table, then squeezed it out. The worn terrycloth might as well have been my heart.

"Are we talking what's possible? Or in my wildest dreams?"

"Dream big."

But when it came down to it, I didn't want big. I wanted small, normal, everyday. Or as everyday as you can get for a telepath in love with a vampire. "I don't want to change you, and I know I can't. I'm not going to say what you told me last night didn't freak me out a little, because it did. But in my heart of hearts, it doesn't really make a difference. But what I really want is to be able to forget about vampire politics for at least most of the time. And I think I'd like it if most nights, I could see you for a little while when you first woke up, and maybe just before I went to bed. You run your bar, I run my bar, and I have someone to hold me, someone to listen." I was fighting off tears again, because saying it out loud to Eric just makes it so ridiculous. I think of all the other girls, hundreds, thousands of them over the centuries that have looked at that face and wanted the same thing, and how all of those dreams had been in vain. How could I expect it to be different for me?

"But I gave up on that dream a long time ago. So why don't you tell me what you want? Because I just don't see a happy ending here."

"What I want?" Eric said, his voice loud, forceful. "You. Forever."

I swallowed, hard, choking back a gasp.

"I want to turn you. I want you to be mine. My lover, my wife, my child, my partner. It would not be easy, but I think you would make a magnificent vampire. We would be great together."

And I thought my dream was ridiculous.

"You promised you wouldn't do that. Not even if I was dying."

"I know, and I will honor that promise. We were talking dreams. Your alternative…well I'd take it."

He took a few steps towards me. I was already backed against the sink and couldn't retreat any farther.

"But you left," I said, my voice just a whisper because if I raised it any higher, it'd come out as a sob. "You chose."

"Remember, in my dream, you're a vampire, and you come to understand that when I left, it was in order to get to a place where we might somehow be together." Eric touched me, his hand resting on my hip, the other on my shoulder. I laid my hands on his chest. Partly so I'd be touching him too, but partly to keep him at bay. "I don't blame you—it took a long time, but I believe I understand now, why you did what you did. But you did push me away, too."

And in a way, he was right. Though I didn't regret breaking our bond, I could have gone about it a different way. I knew that hurt him. I knew saving Sam was the right way to have used the cluviel dor, but I understood how that must have smarted, too. He knew about it, and didn't even ask me to use it. That should have earned him more credit than I gave him.

I loved—still loved—Eric, yet I'd done those hurtful things. He'd left, but he said he still loved me, regardless of the consequences. I entertained the idea that it was true. That I could forgive. That love was enough, even if it killed you.

"It's too late. You're married. I can't be your whore."

"Have I ever treated you as a whore, Sookie?"

I shook my head. "But I can't share you. I can learn to live with you feeding on others, just as long as I don't see it. I can live with the fact that you've been with countless others, that I am only one in a long line for you. I can accept that you are a killer, that it is in your nature to turn to violence. But I can't—_won't—_be the other woman."

"I'm not asking you to."

"How do you get out of your marriage contract with Oklahoma?"

"I don't. It's a political arrangement. Nothing more. Freyda wanted me to assist in expanding her empire, not to entertain her."

"But I thought marriage contracts between royals entailed certain _obligations…_"

"They do. But I am not a King. I'm merely her consort. Freyda rules. I follow her command. If she wanted me in her bed, I could not refuse, but she does not."

I laid my head against his chest, gripping his sweater with my hands. He pulled me closer, his lips brushing my hair, my neck, my cheek.

"Say this isn't the end of us, Sookie. Say we'll try again."

"And let your love kill me?" I mumbled against his chest.

"If anyone can beat fate, it is you, my Sookie."

"I don't know," I said. This was a lot to take in, and my nerves were still frayed. I pulled back to look at him. "My life is here."

"Our lives should be together."

"But—" Before I could finish the thought, Eric kissed me. Long. Hard. He was right; our lives should be together. But could they be?

"I must go, now. But I will be back. I will see you in New Orleans, in two days. You are traveling with Pam, for the celebration, and I will meet you there. Yes?"

That had been the plan before the roller coaster ride of the last few days: my inadvertent and unwelcome gossip celebrity status, my murder of Felipe. I nodded.

Eric smiled, kissed me again, and left.

And I told myself that he would be back. That just as he had said last time we had parted, that this was not the end for us.


	10. Chapter 10

After Eric left, I finished washing my dishes, then went back upstairs and crawled into bed.

I slept.

When morning came, I felt refreshed. I went to work at the bar, not exactly with a spring in my step, but I was able to muster a genuine smile for customers and co-workers alike. I lost myself in routine and took comfort in the familiar sights, sounds, and even smells of the bar.

I went home, proud of a full day's work. I watered my plants. I did my laundry. I lived my life, grateful for another day. I didn't even have to tell myself not to think about Eric. Or fate.

Pam calling to confirm our 9pm departure time for New Orleans the next day. I knew we had the whole drive to talk about whatever was happening or was going to happen, so I didn't even try to get answers out of her.

"I want to get there in good time, so be ready to go," Pam added, again.

"I'll be ready," I said. I smiled at the irony. There was no "ready" for Eric.

I packed my suitcase. The prospect of planning for a trip like this used to be a kind of nervous excitement, but it was just another chore by now, I'd done it so many times.

The next morning, I went up and ran a few work errands—dropping by the bank, making sure supplies were all stocked for the weekend. There wasn't an unexpected lunch crowd from a bus who got off the highway or anything like that, so I cut out early. On the way home I stopped by the little sundry shop in town that every so often has fresh cut flowers, and I bought a bouquet, and set out to visit my gran.

I'd never minded living next door to a cemetery, though I guess some might have thought it creepy. Now, it seemed convenient how easy it was to stop by and see where my grandmother had been laid to rest.

It'd become a habit over the years. I'd take a blanket and sit cross-legged on it and just talk to her about whatever was on my mind. It was my way of processing the daily events of my life, and it worked much in the same way we'd have done over the kitchen table had she been alive, only I now had to infer her responses.

I'd never really talked to her about Eric, though. She hadn't known him. He'd been nothing more to me than a vampire I was wary of (and maybe a bit attracted to) before she died. I couldn't recall that it'd ever been a conscious decision, but I'd kept him from her. Now, I had a long story to tell.

Maybe this was my own twisted substitute for therapy, but it worked. Having to commit what had happened between us to words, to give it voice, helped me see it much more clearly. I couldn't summon any shame. Gran had always had her own secrets, too. And it wasn't hard to imagine what Gran would have said, had we'd been around the kitchen table instead of her tombstone.

After I'd unburdened myself to my gran and come to an easy resolution on how to proceed, I did my favorite thing in the world, something I hadn't down in far too long. I slathered on some sunscreen (in my youth I'd never done so, and I had the wrinkles to show for it now) and laid on my old chair and soaked up the sun.

Enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face, I stretched out in contentment. Realization wasn't a light bulb moment or a lightning strike. It came to me slowly until I felt silly, like the answer must have been there all along.

I was ready to go, as promised, at 9pm sharp. When I climbed into Pam's car after throwing my suitcase in the back with her travel coffin, I was ready for this trip. Ready to stop hiding. Ready to forgive.

Ready to see Eric again.

I buckled my seatbelt, but Pam turned to give me a skeptical eye rather than immediately backing out.

"Something's different about you tonight," she said.

I couldn't quite tell if she meant that in a good way, or a bad. I just smiled back at her and didn't bother to ask what she meant. "Everything in order for the celebration?" I asked.

"Yes." Pam said. She didn't elaborate.

Then I asked a question I was afraid to ask. "Who's in charge of Louisiana?"

"Zeus. That hasn't changed. The details are still being worked out."

Tight-lipped Pam wasn't in the mood to chat, so I didn't push her. She was unusually tense and it wasn't putting me at ease. Since I was going to be operating on vampire time, which meant late nights, I decided a nap was in order.

I stirred from my sleep as we came to the edge of the city. Sitting up in a start, I wiped drool from my face.

"Good dreams?" Pam asked, glancing at me mischievously out of the corner of her eye.

"Dreams?" I said, still confused in that in-between state when real life starts intruding on the stasis of sleep.

"You might have said his name," Pam explained.

I blushed even though I didn't remember what I was dreaming.

"So, did you two come to an understanding the other night?" Pam asked.

The lights of the city came into sharper focus and we slowed as traffic increased around us.

"Not exactly."

"Then tonight." Pam reached across the center console of her car and laid her hand on mine where it rested on my knee. "You belong together." She squeezed my hand, then placed hers back on the steering wheel.

I smiled.

This scene played out in my head many times over the last day. Once I'd decided what I wanted, I'd pictured walking into the hotel, my eyes meeting Eric's across the lobby, running, but in slow motion, across to meet him, kissing him and not caring who saw, music swelling in the background from an unseen orchestra.

That is not what happened. The bellboy struggled with Pam's travel coffin and dropped it on my toe, so I limped across the lobby. Instead of spotting Eric, I saw Freyda. There was the sound of an orchestra, but it was just the screech of violins as my perfect daydream met reality.

She floated my way, leaving a conversation with her entourage of vampires to seek me out.

"Sookie, so nice to see you," she said. I didn't think it was wise to let on that we'd been in contact since the meeting in Austin, but I couldn't escape the memories of killing Felipe, of wanting to kill her.

"Likewise," I said, and smiled.

"We're so pleased that everyone is coming to celebrate the anniversary of the Great Revelation. Your presence is proof that our peaceful coexistence with humans is not only possible, but a resounding success."

Freyda had the politics down. I had to hand her that.

"I am a proponent of tolerance within the supernatural community," I replied.

My eyes scanned the room looking for Eric, but he wasn't among the crowd in the room, who all had their eyes trained on us, as if they were waiting for a cat fight to break out between us. The human vampire enthusiasts who'd come for the celebration were all whispering. I had almost forgotten that to the rest of the world, I was the woman who Freyda's consort loved. Vampires, who don't always seem to value love, let alone love for humans, watched with interest. Humans glared with spite.

"Eric is in a meeting," Freyda said, as if she could read my mind. "I'll let him know you arrived."

I smiled, not trusting myself to speak.

"And Sookie?" she asked, stepping closer so she could lower her voice enough that interested ears wouldn't hear her next words.

"Don't disappoint me. Or him. But most of all, yourself. Trust me. The only way to get what you want it to fight for it. Be bold."

"And what if what I want runs counter to what you want?"

"I don't believe it does. I need Eric for support. You both want to be with each other. My political success need not come at an expense to his happiness. Or yours."

She reached up to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear, then laid her palm against my cheek, and smiled. A few gasps erupted from the humans, and several sets of vampire eyes narrowed. I didn't know what to make of my exchange with Freyda anymore than they did.

Her hand dropped from my face, and she turned and walked away. I went looking for Pam.

We'd settled into the room and Pam went to meet a few vampires (and possibly pick up a bite to eat). I was sitting on my bed looking over the room service menu when there was a knock at the door.

I rose, went to the door, and peeked through the hole. My heart beat faster. I'd gone head first into danger many times. To do what I thought was right. To help those I cared about. But this danger was only to myself, which made it seem that much scarier.

I opened the door—and my heart—to Eric.

"Hi," I said, suddenly shy, something I couldn't recall ever feeling in Eric's presence.

He nodded, a faint, or possibly nervous smile visible on his lips, and entered.


	11. Chapter 11

Eric and I stood awkwardly in the tight space between the door to the closet and the door to the bathroom. He took up so much space. Physically and emotionally.

"How was your meeting?" I asked, trying to make small talk. My instinct told me to offer refreshment, to invite him to sit down. But there was only the bed, and me, and we were way past those sorts of formalities—weren't we?

"Good." He blinked a couple of times while he looked down at me, as if he was trying to focus. "Everything is coming together as intended with only minor adjustments, despite the improvisation some players brought to the plan."

That "improvisation" being the strategic use of Eric's relationship with me as fodder for gossip columns to hurry along the assassination of a vampire monarch.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on? Even Pam is being cagey, and she was always in favor of letting me in on plans that concerned me." I stood there, unsure of what to do with my hands.

Someone less acquainted or watching less intently would have missed his flinch. True to form, I felt a wave of guilt at getting in the little jab.

"I wanted to tell you. I asked Pam to withhold until I was able to do so. The formal announcement will come tomorrow night. As Freyda's right hand, I'm being appointed to a new position as a liaison between her and the other territories. I'll travel, overseeing."

"Like Victor did for Felipe, before?"

"I hope to do a better job than that," he said. "Fortunately, I am not cursed with his ambition."

Eric proceeded to tell me about the other changes in vampire leadership. I tried to pay attention. This was important.

But I felt the resolve I'd found the last few days slipping as he did everything short of draw me a flowchart of the new hierarchy. I'd asked him to explain, so it wasn't that I didn't want this kind of knowledge that had me hesitating. But Eric being promoted within Freyda's entourage. Instead of less attached to her, he was more beholden to her. He'd never be mine in the way I wanted.

"But you're still married. To her," I said, and ai was proud of how even my voice sounded.

Eric sighed, then ran his hand through his long, blonde hair. Mine was getting darker with each passing year, and I never had the time for highlights, so our color was no longer so similar.

_I changed. He didn't._

The silence was heavy as that realization, which had always been there, bubbled back to the surface.

"You think of marriage in the wrong way," he said.

I frowned. No one liked being told that their thinking was wrong, and I let him know as much.

"Maybe wrong is not the word I mean," he said. "This is the problem with words. They change meaning."

Eric was so much older than me. Practically ancient. Though I rarely see it, for a moment, the weight of those years was visible in the way he shrugged his shoulders. Eric adapted for modern times, but the process was not effortless.

_Maybe he could change?_

"Tell me what you mean," I asked.

"Historically, People, let alone vampires, have had little opportunity to think of marriage in romantic terms. Freyda and I are married in that we are bound to support one another, in that we work together to ensure survival. There is no notion of romance. It has nothing to do with love. It is obligation and duty. That is all. Not so different from your arrangement with Sam."

Eric stepped closer to me, which put him within inches of me. We were still having this conversation in the foyer of the not exactly spacious hotel room.

It was difficult to think. I'd come to here resolved to make this—_us_—work. I just hadn't gotten to the _how_ part yet. The Sam and me as to Freyda and Eric didn't seem like the perfect analogy. I thought back to vocabulary workbooks I'd done as a kid, trying to come up for the category this comparison fell into, but term eluded me. What I did realize was that even if it wasn't the exact same relationship, it was a difference of degree, rather than kind. Sam and I worked together, but we had complicated personal history and a closer relationship than most business partners. People often treated us as a married couple or assumed we were one. Were Eric and Freyda so different?

"Say we'll be together. Say we'll try. I want to make this work," Eric said.

His hands found mine, and squeezed gently.

"I want to. Tell me how."

So he did. He had a plan. He would stop by Bon Temps often as he made his rounds. I could take short trips with him. We'd do our best to keep a low profile. We'd be together—at least half of the time. He promised fidelity, love, protection. Though he didn't say it, what I valued most was his respect, and I felt like he was promising that, too.

There was only one problem he didn't address, so I couldn't help but ask. "You're not still worried about Lucia's vision?"

"You are mortal. You'll die much too soon for my taste, no matter what the cause," he said. After a moment's pause, one corner of his mouth quirked up, and I wished for the bond, because I had no idea how to read it.

And then I laughed. Because what he said was true.

"What?" he asked, and that impish grin spread into a full on smile.

"I just love you."

"And I, you."

Then there was no more talking for quite a long time.


End file.
